Beloved Enemy, The (House of Winslow Book #30)

by Gilbert, Morris

  Kefira put her gaze on him, studying him intently. Finally she said, “Do you love Jesus, Josh?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said quietly. “Not as much as I should, but that’s part of the Christian life. You know how the longer you are around some people, the more you love them. I haven’t been a Christian very long, but the more I think of Jesus, the more I seek Him, the more I love Him. I think that’s what heaven will be,” he said quietly. “Just learning to love Jesus and each other more and more throughout all eternity.”

  “That’s very good.” Kefira’s voice was soft, and she was quiet for a long time. “I’ve been reading about Jesus. There’s nobody else like Him in all of history, but have I been wrong all my life? My whole family is Jewish. None of them believe in Jesus.”

  “I can’t answer all your questions, but I’m glad you’re learning about Jesus. One day you’ll cry out to Him, and He’ll just come in and take over your heart.”

  Disbelief clouded Kefira’s features. She shook her head and got up and said no more.

  ****

  The weeks wore on, and very few finds were made in the tell. Amir had been growing steadily more discontented. He began trying to persuade Phineas to change locations, but Phineas was steadfast. “No,” he said firmly, “we’ll stay here. I’m sure there’s something here, and we’ll just have to be patient.”

  Diana had heard this conversation, and privately she agreed with Amir. She found Josh and said, “I’m going into town to get some supplies. Come with me.”

  “I’ve got a lot to do, Diana.”

  “Don’t be such an old stick. I need the company. Come on.”

  The two of them climbed into the truck and drove into the village. They bought the supplies and loaded them in the truck. As they were climbing back in, Diana looked around with a scowl on her face. “There’s not a thing to do in a dump like this. Don’t you ever wish you were back in civilization again?”

  Josh had not yet started the motor. He sat in the driver’s seat, sweat running from his forehead. He mopped it and shook his head. “No, not really. This is what I want to do.”

  “I think I agree with Amir,” Diana said abruptly. “I don’t think there’s anything at the tell where we are now. I think we ought to move.”

  “Your uncle doesn’t agree with you.”

  “He’s a very stubborn man. Oh, I know he seems meek, but he’s like a snapping turtle hanging on when he gets an idea.” She reached out and put her hand on the back of his neck, and he turned to face her with surprise. “I’ve been thinking, Josh. This is no way for you to live.”

  “Why, I don’t mind it. The hardships, you mean?”

  “No, just being off the beaten track.” Diana had been thinking about this for some time. She was a woman of moods and had become more and more disenchanted with life on the barren desert. “I’ve been thinking a lot, and I want you to listen to me, Josh.”

  “All right. What is it?”

  “You’ll get tired of this pretty soon. I want us to go back to the States, and I want you to get to know my father. You’d like him. He’s gruff, but he’s got a good heart. He has his hand in a lot of things, business things. You two would get along. He’ll give you a job. Something that’s exciting with some money in it. We could do it together. We could travel, see the world and have fun.”

  Josh was very aware of her touch. At the moment, hot, dirty, sweaty, and tired, her words seemed to make sense, but he had already made his choice. He knew it was time that she understood how he felt. Turning to her, he said, “Diana, what we had for each other is over. At the time it was the greatest thing in my life, but I’m a different man now. I’m not the man for you. We’d make each other miserable, and I think deep down you know it.”

  As Josh spoke, Diana let her hand remain on his neck for a moment, then abruptly pulled it away. “Let’s go back,” she said.

  “I didn’t want to offend you, but we could never have anything for each other long-term. We’re too different.”

  And then Diana Welles, for once in her life, gave up. She hated to be defeated, but she saw that Josh was steady, rocklike, and she realized he was speaking the truth. “All right, Josh, I gave it a whirl. You can’t blame a girl for trying, can you?” She turned to him and smiled slightly, then said, “Go on back to camp. We’re a finished item.”

  Josh started the truck and felt a weight fall away from him. He knew he had done the right thing. He was sorry that Diana was hurt, but he knew her well. He knew she would find somebody else—and that she would never be happy with what she found.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The Find

  As June came to an end, Kefira found that she had settled in to the work and life in the desert better than she had expected. She had grown somewhat accustomed to the heat, never really liking it but learning to ignore the searing sun at midday. At night the winds sometimes felt almost cool in comparison with the day, and it was during those times that she would sit after finishing her work and read the New Testament, which had become a part of her life.

  Late one Wednesday she had finished washing Phineas’s shirts and shorts and hung them to dry, and afterward had gone to his tent, giving him clean sheets. She had become very fond indeed of Phineas, and he of her. He often made such remarks as, “If it weren’t for Kefira’s cooking, we’d all be at each other’s throats. I’ve seen it that way on digs in the past.” Kefira’s face would flush with pleasure at his remarks, but she noticed Diana did not particularly enjoy them.

  Now, drawing the canvas chair to the front of her tent, she opened the New Testament. As she held it in her hands she wondered, What would Papa think of my reading the New Testament? The question troubled her deeply. Her uncle had been a rabbi in the old country, and her father had longed to be one, but circumstances had not permitted it. Her Jewish heritage ran deep and the thought of forsaking it, which had occurred to her of late, gave her a pain in her heart. For a long time she sat there simply holding the worn black book, thinking of her parents and of Chaim. She had written him several times since she’d left, but there had been no answer, and she assumed it was difficult to get mail from the States to Egypt. She found herself praying then, as she often did, for his safety and health, and that when his time in prison was over he would find a good life. Abruptly she halted her prayer, realizing that she had no right to pray. From far off came the plaintive cry of a wild dog, and Kefira waited until it faded, then murmured, “What right have I to pray to God? I’ve thought of Him as my enemy for taking my parents. Why should He hear a sinner like me?”

  She opened the book at random and began reading in the middle of a chapter:

  And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he went into the Pharisee’s house, and sat down to meat. And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.

  The words struck Kefira powerfully. She well knew that the attitudes of the ancient Jews—and even some of the modern ones—toward women were harsh. Her father had told her that some Jews, when they said their prayers, always added the phrase, “And thank you, God, for not making me a woman.” He had shaken his head and told her this was wrong, but Kefira had never forgotten it. She had read in the Old Testament of the inferior position of women, how they had been treated almost as chattel, and it had angered her.

  She read the verses again, and for some reason the plight of the woman touched her heart. She had been aware of destitute women on the streets of New York and had never been able to understand how a woman could fall to such a position. As she read of the woman finding Jesus and weeping, her tears falling on His feet and wiping them away with her long hair, she felt compassion. Poor woman! What a terrible life she must have led!

&nbs
p; And then Kefira thought, The righteous, self-respecting Jews would have nothing to do with a fallen woman. What will Jesus do to this woman, obviously a prostitute, who comes and takes such liberties with Him? Why, He’ll probably tell her to go at once and leave Him alone!

  She looked down to the next verse:

  Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him: for she is a sinner.

  That’s exactly what I would expect a good Jewish man to say, Kefira thought. He expects Jesus to command the woman to leave Him alone, just as I do.

  She began reading at the next verse:

  And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most?

  Again Kefira paused and thought of what she had read. “What a strange thing to say,” she murmured. “I love the parables Jesus gave, and this is obviously one of them. But anyone would know the answer to that. The one who is forgiven the most will love the most.”

  She looked down and began reading again:

  Simon answered and said, I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment.

  “Good for you, Jesus!” Kefira whispered fervently. “Just exactly what he deserved, the self-righteous pig! Good for you, Jesus!”

  She read on:

  Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven.

  Joy flooded Kefira at that moment. She could almost see the scene in her fertile imagination. The self-righteous Pharisee, the prophet Jesus, and the woman crouching at His feet with tears flowing down her face. She could hear the sternness of Jesus’ accusation as He spoke to His host, and then, when she read the words, Thy sins are forgiven, tears came into her eyes. She could not continue reading for a time and had to pull out a handkerchief to wipe the tears away.

  “What kind of a man is this who would forgive so freely?” she whispered. She looked down and read the last two verses:

  And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.

  Closing the New Testament, Kefira clasped it in both hands. She leaned forward in her canvas chair and put the small book to her forehead and closed her eyes. The peace of the desert brought a great quietness, but she was far away in her imagination. She was sitting in that room and thinking of Jesus and the poor sinful woman. How she must have felt, Kefira thought with a burst of emotion, when He said, “Thy sins are forgiven.” And when He said, “Thy faith hath saved thee.” And then He told her, “Go in peace.” How I would have liked to be there to see that.

  For a long, long time Kefira sat there with the New Testament pressed against her forehead, her eyes tightly closed. She found herself wanting to weep, and she did not know why. She felt also a great void within her own heart, for she had hardness there against men and even against God for allowing her life to be so difficult. Now, however, as she read of Jesus and His loving spirit and His generosity and kindness toward a sinful woman, she whispered, “How can I hate a man who does such things as this?”

  The silence ran on and still she sat there, until finally she whispered, “Oh, Jesus, if this is the kind of a man you are, I cannot hate you any longer.” She did not know how to pray, for she had prayed mostly in formal patterns, but now out of her heart came the prayer. “Show me the way, O almighty and eternal God. If this Jesus is your son, make me to know it. That I too may fall before Him and weep as another sinful woman once did.”

  ****

  The confrontation exploded almost like a mine going off and caught Phineas by surprise. He had been working over his diagrams in the tent, which he had made into his office and was now cluttered up with artifacts and findings. Amir had come in and without preamble had stated, “We must change locations, Professor Welles. We are wasting our time here.”

  Phineas put down his pencil on the small desk, leaned back in his chair, and shook his head. “I’m sorry to disagree with you, Amir, but I feel that would be a sad mistake.”

  Amir’s face darkened, and he said loudly, “You do not know this land as I do. I know you have a reputation, but I have lived here all of my life, and I tell you we’re wasting money and time. There is nothing here to find of any importance.”

  “Amir, please be patient,” Phineas said, sighing. “I expect that we’ve all felt as you do. When I was on the dig at Crete, I felt exactly the same way, and many times I was ready to leave. But I had an able assistant who kept encouraging me. I grew angry with him at times, but I’d listen to him. And you’ve heard of the great finds that we made there.”

  “This is not Crete! This is Egypt!” Amir said vehemently. “When I agreed to cooperate with you on this dig, I assumed that you would listen to me, but you have not. We have dug nothing out but a few unimportant items, and there is nothing here except more of the same! I insist that we leave!”

  The argument grew more heated. Even the professor lost his temper, which was a rare thing.

  “You are here as a colleague, Amir, but I am the senior member of this expedition. And I am telling you now that I do not want to hear any more about leaving.”

  Amir stared at the smaller man. Hot words came to his lips, and he let them fall, but then he said, “If I leave, you will have great difficulty in continuing.”

  “It would be unfortunate,” Phineas said sharply, “but we would do the best we could without you.”

  “But you do not have influence with the government as I do. You could be stopped in a moment if I dropped a word in the right place.”

  “I think after that threat there’s nothing more to be said. There’ll be no more talk about it.”

  Amir glared at Welles, turned and left, and shortly afterward Josh came in. “I couldn’t help overhearing. Amir was pretty loud,” he said. He studied the professor and said, “Do you think he’ll cause trouble?”

  “I hope not, Joshua. He is right about one thing. He’s an influential man with the government in Cairo. The laws and regulations are very strict about excavating here. It all must be cleared through the department there.” Phineas sighed and ran his hand through his scanty hair. “I don’t know why things like this have to happen. It’s hard enough doing the work without fighting dissension like this.”

  Josh could not help thinking it would have been better if Amir had not been involved in the expedition at all, but he knew it was useless to take that line now. “I’m sure we’ll find more significant artifacts, Professor. We’ll just have to work harder.”

  “You’re a comfort, Josh. I’m glad you’re here with me. I’ve watched you work, and I know you have a great future in the field. How are you coming with your hieroglyphics?”

  “It’s a lot harder than French or German, but you’ve been such a help to me. I’m sure I’ll master it. I always admired the way you could read hieroglyphics as easily as I read a newspaper.”

  “You have a gift for language, and you’ll learn.”

  Josh left the professor and went to the cook tent, where he found Lisimba peeling potatoes. “Need any help, Lisimba?” he said with a grin.

  “No, you dig, I cook with missy.” He smiled and nodded ove
r to Kefira, who was chopping a fish into small pieces.

  “What are you cooking now?” Josh asked her.

  “Gefilte fish. Lisimba found some fresh fish from heaven knows where, and I missed gefilte fish.”

  “I remember you fixed that for us back in Georgia.”

  “That’s right, I did.” She smiled at him, then added, “Sometime I’ll make you gefilte kishke.”

  “What in the world is that?”

  “It’s stuffed intestines.”

  Josh laughed. “It sounds like something they would eat down south. Only there they call it ‘chitterlings.’”

  “There’s also gefilte helzel, stuffed chicken neck skin. We’ll try that sometime.”

  “Well, if you make it, I’m sure I’ll like it.” Josh sat there chatting idly with her and finally remarked on the scene between Amir and Phineas. “He was really sore. He talked about walking out.”

  “I never have liked that man. He’s arrogant,” Kefira said. “I wish he would go away.”

  “I guess we need him. He has influence with the government. He could cause us trouble.”

  “That is true,” Lisimba said, nodding. “He is a very important man in Cairo. He has very influential friends, but the Lord Jesus will not let him hurt the good professor.”

  “That’s good news. We’ll both pray about that.” Josh grinned and took a sip of his coffee. He remained for a time and then left to go back to the dig.

  Lisimba had been watching Kefira very carefully. He finished peeling the potatoes and then began slicing them up into slivers. “You like Mr. Joshua, do you not, missy?”

  Kefira was startled. “Why … we’re very good friends.”

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  Kefira stared at Lisimba and saw he was laughing at her. “What do you mean by saying such a thing? That’s all we are, just friends.”